


Dead Frogs

by NervousOtaku (orphan_account)



Series: Tales of a 144 Player Fansession! [14]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Frog Breeding, Frogs, SBURB Fan Session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 20:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10421073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NervousOtaku
Summary: Or: My Purpose Is Destruction And Here I Am Being Asked To Make And Raise Delicate Creatures For The Sake Of The Universe





	

Mason growled, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He just was not cut out for this.

LODAF was a pretty grimy place. It stank a bit and looked awful. If you didn't want to get sick, you had to wear a gas mask before going outside, and shower immediately after coming in, or wear a biohazard suit. And all of the frogs Mason was supposed to be messing with were outside. Sick and dying.

Mason wasn't exactly good with delicate things such as frogs, let alone sick and frail frogs.

Not to say that he was clumsy. By _no means_ was Mason Northton clumsy.

He was just... well...

_Destructively powerful._

Even _before_ he was named the Prince of Space, Mason had been strong. He wasn't the strongest person on the team— _that_ went to Quince Halstrom, the Prince of Void, followed by Keith Greene, the Prince of Life— but he was still powerful. And now, his power was essentially geared _specifically_ for destruction.

And he was being asked to _breed_ these _delicate little_ creatures as one-twelfth of a cosmic amphibian's all-important genetic code.

Almost needless to say, Mason was not having the best of luck with his endeavor.

He had thirty frogs so far. Seven of them were unparadoxified, and therefore _dead_ , since he'd had to kill them before they could infect anything. The rest were sickly and weak, liable to die at a moment's notice. He wasn't even sure if those two in the corner were still _breathing_. The rest weren't any happier.

This was not going well.

Mason covered his face with his hands, letting out an exasperated groan.

“Um...”

Automatically, he jumped up, a bat at the ready.

“Woah, woah! Friendly! Promise!”

Mason blinked, relaxing.

One of the other players.

“Sorry to startle you. I'm Ryan Derren— uh, photogenicPaladin, if anyone you know of talks about me.” the other guy introduced.

“Sorry for overreacting,” Mason replied, putting his bat away, “Mason Northton, ragePlayer. Can't say I can recall any mention of you, but I don't talk to many people...”

“That's cool. So, uh...”

“... I'm not quite cut out for frog-duties.” Mason admitted, casting a glance at the two in the corner.

Okay, yeah, they were _dead_.

“Do you have a Time-player helping you yet? I think most of the others have theirs figured out, and a few even have additional help.”

“Do we _need_ a Time-player?”

“So I'm told. I think I trust Clint. He seems to know the rules of the game pretty well.” Ryan nodded, crouching down to gingerly pick up a particularly tiny frog. “He says Pygmalion knows them better, but I hear only a select few can understand a word the guy says any more.”

“Pygmalion— That's the tentacle-guy, right? Seer of Doom or some jazz like that?” Mason asked. Ryan nodded. “So _why_ do we need a Time-player?”

“Clint was really vague about that. He said something about universes being made of spacetime and stuff like that. A lot of it went over my head, to be honest, but he shooed me off without giving me a chance to ask what he meant.”

Mason snorted.

As Ryan gently pet the frog in his hands, soothing it's twitching, Mason admitted, “I kinda cooped myself up after learning what Space-players were supposed to be doing. I don't even know if I _know_ any Time-players.”

“If you want, I could call one for you. I'm not doing anything at the moment, so I can help, too. My Classpect is the Knight of Life, so maybe I can help protect any especially weak frogs from dying?”

“I don't want to impose...” Mason mumbled, though he could feel the relief spreading across his face. _Yes_ , he wanted help. He hadn't thought anyone _could_ , but if they were _supposed_ to have help, then by all means, he would _gladly_ accept help. He'd _already_ killed nine frogs.

Ryan smiled, adjusting how he held the tiny frog so he could get to his computer and pester the Time-player he knew.

While they waited, Mason collected all the dead frogs to dispose of them. He couldn't help but notice that the frogs closer to Ryan looked _happier_ than they had before.

Yes, he wanted this guy's help.


End file.
